We used to have a regular wrestling match to get the kids to brush their teeth. Now we adopt altogether more dark arts in our battle to get them to clean their toothy-pegs. Okay, don’t brush your teeth, but if they start rotting and fall out, you’ve only got yourself to blame. We’re evil.
Of course now I can go one better and open my mouth and show them the current horrendous state of my choppers. I used to have really good teeth. Then someone broke two of them in a PE lesson (I got dentistry, he got suspended for a couple of days). It’s been downhill since then. My two oldest pieces of work are the two gold crowns Peter gifted me when he hammered me in the face with a basketball over 20 years ago. Now I only have one gold crown. One made a big for freedom during a slice of apple flavoured malt loaf on Saturday. As you can see from the picture, it was pretty worn and I suspect the light shining through it was probably the reason it fell out ultimately.
So I’ve now got the joy of trying to work out what exactly constitutes an emergency in our dental practice. Last time I cracked a tooth they didn’t see me for a fortnight. This time, I’ve got a black stump exposed which is so sensitive I’m drinking everything through a straw.
Life looks odd through a straw:
So if this doesn’t motivate the kids to brush their teeth better, nothing will!